Complete Works of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

by Henry Howard

  Which to express, who could refrain from tears?

  What Myrmidon? or yet what Dolopes? 10

  What stern Ulysses’ waged soldier?

  And lo! moist night now from the welkin falls;

  And stars declining counsel us to rest.

  But since so great is thy delight to hear

  Of our mishaps, and Troyè’s last decay; 15

  Though to record the same my mind abhors,

  And plaint eschews, yet thus will I begin.

  The Greeks’ chieftains all irked with the war

  Wherein they wasted had so many years,

  And oft repuls’d by fatal destiny, 20

  A huge horse made, high raised like a hill,

  By the divine science of Minerva:

  Of cloven fir compacted were his ribs;

  For their return a feigned sacrifice

  The fame whereof so wander’d it at point. 25

  In the dark bulk they clos’d bodies of men

  Chosen by lot, and did enstuff by stealth

  The hollow womb with armed soldiers.

  There stands in sight an isle, hight Tenedon,

  Rich, and of fame, while Priam’s kingdom stood; 30

  Now but a bay, and road, unsure for ship.

  Hither them secretly the Greeks withdrew,

  Shrouding themselves under the desert shore.

  And, weening we they had been fled and gone,

  And with that wind had fet the land of Greece, 35

  Troy discharged her long continued dole.

  The gates cast up, we issued out to play,

  The Greekish camp desirous to behold,

  The places void, and the forsaken coasts.

  ‘Here Pyrrhus’ band; there fierce Achilles pight; 40

  Here rode their ships; there did their battles join.’

  Astonnied some the scatheful gift beheld,

  Behight by vow unto the chaste Minerve;

  All wond’ring at the hugeness of the horse.

  And first of all Timœtes gan advise 45

  Within the walls to lead and draw the same;

  And place it eke amid the palace court:

  Whether of guile, or Troyè’s fate it would.

  Capys, with some of judgment more discreet,

  Will’d it to drown; or underset with flame 50

  The suspect present of the Greeks’ deceit;

  Or bore and gage the hollow caves uncouth.

  So diverse ran the giddy people’s mind.

  Lo! foremost of a rout that follow’d him,

  Kindled Laocoon hasted from the tower, 55

  Crying far off: ‘O wretched citizens!

  What so great kind of frenzy fretteth you?

  Deem ye the Greeks our enemies to be gone?

  Or any Greekish gifts can you suppose

  Devoid of guile? Is so Ulysses known? 60

  Either the Greeks are in this timber hid;

  Or this an engine is to annoy our walls,

  To view our towers, and overwhelm our town.

  Here lurks some craft. Good Troyans! give no trust

  Unto this horse; for what so ever it be, 65

  I dread the Greeks; yea! when they offer gifts.’

  And with that word, with all his force a dart

  He lanced then into that crooked womb;

  Which trembling stuck, and shook within the side:

  Wherewith the caves gan hollowly resound. 70

  And, but for Fates, and for our blind forecast,

  The Greeks’ device and guile had he descried;

  Troy yet had stood, and Priam’s towers so high.

  Therewith behold, whereas the Phrygian herds

  Brought to the king with clamour, all unknown 75

  A young man, bound his hands behind his back;

  Who willingly had yielden prisoner,

  To frame this guile, and open Troyè’s gates

  Unto the Greeks; with courage fully bent,

  And mind determed either of the twain; 80

  To work his feat, or willing yield to death.

  Near him, to gaze, the Trojan youth gan flock.

  And strove who most might at the captive scorn.

  The Greeks’ deceit behold, and by one proof

  Imagine all the rest. 85

  For in the press as he unarmed stood

  With troubled chere, and Phrygian routs beset;

  ‘Alas!’ quod he, ‘what earth now, or what seas

  May me receive? catiff, what rests me now?

  For whom in Greece doth no abode remain. 90

  The Trojans eke offended seek to wreak

  Their heinous wrath, with shedding of my blood.’

  With this regret our hearts from rancour moved.

  The bruit appeas’d, we ask’d him of his birth,

  What news he brought; what hope made him to yield. 95

  Then he, all dread removed, thus began:

  ‘O King! I shall what ever me betide,

  Say but the truth: ne first will me deny

  A Grecian born; for though fortune hath made

  Sinon a wretch, she cannot make him false. 100

  If ever came unto your ears the name,

  Nobled by fame, of the sage Palamede,

  Whom trait’rously the Greeks condemn’d to die;

  Guiltless, by wrongful doom, for that he did

  Dissuade the wars; whose death they now lament; 105

  Underneath him my father, bare of wealth,

  Into his band young, and near of his blood,

  In my prime years unto the war me sent.

  While that by fate his state in stay did stand,

  And when his realm did flourish by advice, 110

  Of glory, then, we bare some fame and bruit.

  But since his death by false Ulysses’ sleight,

  (I speak of things to all men well beknown)

  A dreary life in doleful plaint I led,

  Repining at my guiltless friend’s mischance. 115

  Ne could I, fool! refrain my tongue from threats,

  That if my chance were ever to return

  Victor to Arge, to follow my revenge.

  With such sharp words procured I great hate.

  Here sprang my harm. Ulysses ever sith 120

  With new found crimes began me to affray.

  In common ears false rumours gan he sow:

  Weapons of wreak his guilty mind gan seek.

  Ne rested aye till he by Calchas mean —— —

  But whereunto these thankless tales in vain 125

  Do I rehearse, and linger forth the time,

  In like estate if all the Greeks ye price?

  It is enough ye here rid me at once.

  Ulysses, Lord! how he would this rejoice!

  Yea, and either Atride would buy it dear.’ 130

  This kindled us more eager to inquire,

  And to demand the cause; without suspect

  Of so great mischief thereby to ensue,

  Or of Greeks’ craft. He then with forged words

  And quivering limbs, thus took his tale again. 135

  ‘The Greeks oftimes intended their return

  From Troyè town, with long wars all ytired,

  And to dislodge; which, would God! they had done.

  But oft the winter storms of raging seas,

  And oft the boisterous winds did them to stay; 140

  And chiefly, when of clinched ribs of fir

  This horse was made, the storms roared in the air.

  Then we in doubt to Phœbus’ temple sent

  Euripilus, to weet the prophesy.

  From whence he brought these woful news again. 145

  With blood, O Greeks! and slaughter of a maid,

  Ye peas’d the winds, when first ye came to Troy.

  With blood likewise ye must seek your return:

  A Greekish soul must offer’d be therefore.’

  ‘But when this sound had pierc’d the peoples’ ears, 150

/>   With sudden fear astonied were their minds;

  The chilling cold did overrun their bones,

  To whom that fate was shap’d, whom Phœbus would.’

  Ulysses then amid the press brings in

  Calchas with noise, and will’d him to discuss 155

  The Gods’ intent. Then some gan deem to me

  The cruel wreak of him that fram’d the craft;

  Foreseeing secretly what would ensue.

  In silence then, yshrowding him from sight,

  But days twice five he whisted; and refused 160

  To death, by speech, to further any wight.

  At last, as forced by false Ulysses’ cry,

  Of purpose he brake forth, assigning me

  To the altar; whereto they granted all:

  And that, that erst each one dread to himself, 165

  Returned all unto my wretched death.

  And now at hand drew near the woful day.

  All things prepar’d wherewith to offer me;

  Salt, corn, fillets, my temples for to bind.

  I scap’d the death, I grant! and brake the bands, 170

  And lurked in a marish all the night

  Among the ooze, while they did set their sails;

  If it so be that they indeed so did.

  Now rests no hope my native land to see,

  My children dear, nor long desired sire; 175

  On whom, perchance, they shall wreak my escape:

  Those harmless wights shall for my fault be slain.

  ‘Then, by the gods, to whom all truth is known;

  By faith unfil’d, if any anywhere

  With mortal folk remains; I thee beseech, 180

  O king, thereby rue on my travail great:

  Pity a wretch that guiltless suffereth wrong.’

  Life to these tears with pardon eke, we grant.

  And Priam first himself commands to loose

  His gyves, his bands; and friendly to him said: 185

  ‘Whoso thou art, learn to forget the Greeks:

  Henceforth be ours; and answer me with truth:

  Whereto was wrought the mass of this huge horse?

  Whose the devise? and whereto should it tend?

  What holy vow? or engine for the wars?’ 190

  Then he, instruct with wiles and Greekish craft,

  His loosed hands lift upward to the stars:

  ‘Ye everlasting lamps! I testify,

  Whose power divine may not be violate;

  Th’ altar, and sword,’ quoth he, ‘that I have scap’d; 195

  Ye sacred bands! I wore as yielden host;

  Lawful be it for me to break mine oath

  To Greeks; lawful to hate their nation;

  Lawful be it to sparkle in the air

  Their secrets all, whatso they keep in close: 200

  For free am I from Greece and from their laws.

  So be it, Troy, and saved by me from scathe,

  Keep faith with me, and stand to thy behest;

  If I speak truth, and opening things of weight,

  For grant of life requite thee large amends. 205

  ‘The Greeks’ whole hope of undertaken war

  In Pallas’ help consisted evermore.

  But sith the time that wicked Diomed,

  Ulysses eke, that forger of all guile,

  Adventur’d from the holy sacred fane 210

  For to bereave Dame Pallas’ fatal form,

  And slew the watches of the chiefest tower.

  And then away the holy statue stole;

  (That were so bold with hands embrued in blood,

  The virgin Goddess veils for to defile) 215

  Sith then their hope ‘gan fail, their hope to fall,

  Their pow’r appair, their Goddess’ grace withdraw

  Which with no doubtful signs she did declare.

  Scarce was the statue to our tents ybrought,

  But she ‘gan stare with sparkled eyes of flame; 220

  Along her limbs the salt sweat trickled down:

  Yea thrice herself, a hideous thing to tell!

  In glances bright she glittered from the ground,

  Holding in hand her targe and quivering spear.

  Calchas by sea then bade us haste our flight: 225

  Whose engines might not break the walls of Troy,

  Unless at Greece they would renew their lots,

  Restore the God that they by sea had brought

  In warped keels. To Arge sith they be come,

  They ‘pease their Gods, and war afresh prepare. 230

  And cross the seas unlooked for eftsoons

  They will return. This order Calchas set.

  ‘This figure made they for th’ aggrieved God,

  In Pallas’ stead; to cleanse their heinous fault.

  Which mass he willed to be reared high 235

  Toward the skies, and ribbed all with oak,

  So that your gates ne wall might it receive;

  Ne yet your people might defensed be

  By the good zeal of old devotion.

  For if your hands did Pallas’ gift defile, 240

  To Priam’s realm great mischief should befall:

  Which fate the Gods first on himself return.

  But had your own hands brought it in your town,

  Asia should pass, and carry offer’d war

  In Greece, e’en to the walls of Pelop’s town; 245

  And we and ours that destiny endure.’

  By such like wiles of Sinon, the forsworn,

  His tale with us did purchase credit; some,

  Trapt by deceit; some, forced by his tears;

  Whom neither Diomed, nor great Achille, 250

  Nor ten years war, ne a thousand sail could daunt.

  Us caitiffs then a far more dreadful chance

  Befel, that troubled our unarmed breasts.

  Whiles Laocoon, that chosen was by lot

  Neptunus’ priest, did sacrifice a bull 255

  Before the holy altar; suddenly

  From Tenedon, behold! in circles great

  By the calm seas come fleeting adders twain,

  Which plied towards the shore (I loathe to tell)

  With reared breast lift up above the seas: 260

  Whose bloody crests aloft the waves were seen;

  The hinder part swam hidden in the flood.

  Their grisly backs were linked manifold.

  With sound of broken waves they gat the strand,

  With glowing eyen, tainted with blood and fire; 265

  Whose waltring tongues did lick their hissing mouths.

  We fled away; our face the blood forsook:

  But they with gait direct to Lacon ran.

  And first of all each serpent doth enwrap

  The bodies small of his two tender sons; 270

  Whose wretched limbs they bit, and fed thereon.

  Then raught they him, who had his weapon caught

  To rescue them; twice winding him about,

  With folded knots and circled tails, his waist:

  Their scaled backs did compass twice his neck, 275

  With reared heads aloft and stretched throats.

  He with his hands strave to unloose the knots,

  (Whose sacred fillets all-besprinkled were

  With filth of gory blood, and venom rank)

  And to the stars such dreadful shouts he sent, 280

  Like to the sound the roaring bull forth lows,

  Which from the altar wounded doth astart,

  The swerving axe when he shakes from his neck.

  The serpents twain, with hasted trail they glide

  To Pallas’ temple, and her towers of height: 285

  Under the feet of the which Goddess stern,

  Hidden behind her target’s boss they crept.

  New gripes of dread then pierce our trembling breasts.

  They said; Lacon’s deserts had dearly bought

  His heinous deed; that pierced had with steel 290


  The sacred bulk, and thrown the wicked lance.

  The people cried with sundry greeing shouts

  To bring the horse to Pallas’ temple blive;

  In hope thereby the Goddess’ wrath t’ appease.

  We cleft the walls and closures of the town; 295

  Whereto all help: and underset the feet

  With sliding rolls, and bound his neck with ropes.

  This fatal gin thus overclamb our walls,

  Stuft with arm’d men; about the which there ran

  Children and maids, that holy carols sang; 300

  And well were they whose hands might touch the cords.

  With threat’ning cheer thus slided through our town

  The subtle tree, to Pallas’ temple-ward.

  O native land! Ilion! and of the Gods

  The mansion place! O warlike walls of Troy! 305

  Four times it stopt in th’ entry of our gate;

  Four times the harness clatter’d in the womb.

  But we go on, unsound of memory,

  And blinded eke by rage persever still:

  This fatal monster in the fane we place. 310

  Cassandra then, inspired with Phœbus sprite,

  Her prophet’s lips, yet never of us ‘lieved,

  Disclosed eft; forespeaking things to come.

  We wretches, lo! that last day of our life

  With boughs of feast the town, and temples deck. 315

  With this the sky gan whirl about the sphere:

  The cloudy night gan thicken from the sea,

  With mantles spread; that cloaked earth and skies,

  And eke the treason of the Greekish guile.

  The watchmen lay dispers’d to take their rest; 320

  Whose wearied limbs sound sleep had then oppress’d:

  When, well in order comes the Grecian fleet

  From Tenedon, toward the coasts well known,

  By friendly silence of the quiet moon.

  When the king’s ship put forth his mark of fire, 325

  Sinon, preserved by froward destiny,

  Let forth the Greeks enclosed in the womb:

  The closures eke of pine by stealth unpinn’d,

  Whereby the Greeks restored were to air.

  With joy down hasting from the hollow tree, 330

  With cords let down did slide unto the ground

  The great captains; Sthenel, and Thessander,

  And fierce Ulysses, Athamas, and Thoas;

  Machaon first, and then king Menelae;

  Opeas eke that did the engine forge. 335

  And straight invade the town yburied then

  With wine and sleep. And first the watch is slain:

  Then gates unfold to let their fellows in,

  They join themselves with the conjured bands.

  It was the time when granted from the Gods 340

  The first sleep creeps most sweet in weary folk.